


it's not that we're scared, just that we're delicate

by VeteranKlaus



Series: stolen moment at a time [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: (Past ones), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Smut, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25263364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeteranKlaus/pseuds/VeteranKlaus
Summary: Dave is gentle, and kind, and lovely, and it almost scares Klaus. He feels like he needs to relearn everything he knows about relationships and love, and his own self worth, and Dave is more than happy to help him.
Relationships: Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Series: stolen moment at a time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831945
Comments: 47
Kudos: 445





	it's not that we're scared, just that we're delicate

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write some soft Klave, that's entirely it
> 
> This is the first bit of smut I've written, so head's up for that and apologies if it's... bad lmao.
> 
> Anyway, give Klaus Dave in season 2 or I'll die, and that's all I have to say.

Klaus likes to imagine he is a bit of an expert in dealing with people. In understanding them, in reading them, in interacting with them; he knows how people work, and he knows how to work people to get what he wants. He’s always been pretty good at that, but especially since his time on the streets when being able to read people and manipulate or work with them was a vital survival tactic. He always knew what to expect from people. He knew, most of the time, from a simple glance or testing touches, whether the person he was talking to was going to be the kind of person to kick him out after the night, or if they were going to hurt and disrespect him; he could learn their trigger points, how to appeal to them, how to get people to act how they wanted. Reading people became incredibly easy to do.

His entire life revolved around it, sometimes. He needed to be able to figure out if this new dealer was going to be nice, or if they were going to try and manipulate Klaus and get him into debt, and he needed to know if the person he was going home with was actually a psychopath with darker intentions; he needed to know how far he could go with people before pushing his own luck, needed to know if he could get things out of people through sympathy, lust or irritation, or if it was simply a lost cause. He needed to know how people worked, and the people he hung around with were often very similar, anyway; it became easy to figure out what kind of person they were and how best to approach them.

He knew if he needed to act grateful and helpless, if he needed to compliment and inflate someone’s ego, or if he needed to challenge them and if he would eventually win, or if he needed to shut his mouth, or if he needed to be a little more assertive. People wanted things from Klaus, and Klaus wanted things from them, and it was all a matter of figuring out whether he could get it or not and, if so, how.

His relationships with people were less ‘relationships’ and more ‘business transactions’, a game, full of risks and dangers and consequences, but he was always focused on the ultimate goal; be it drugs, or food, or shelter, or simply some attention. It was never deeper than that, and he knew that because he learned it the hard way.

People didn’t respect Klaus. _No one_ respected Klaus, least of all himself, but there wasn’t much to respect anyway and his goal was never respect. Respect wouldn’t help him on the streets unless he was trying to move from drug addict to drug dealer. It hurt, at first, when he realised just how little people actually cared about him, but he learned to get over it quickly, and it just became a background acknowledgement; relationships were for ulterior motives, were purely just games until he had gotten all he could from the other person and vice versa, and there was never anything more to his interactions with people.

There was never respect; never care; never affection; least of all, never love. And that was fine with Klaus. He never needed love and he highly doubted it even existed. Relationships were games and sex was a way to get what he wanted, or simply a way for people to use him. It was quick, happened in bathrooms and alleyways, with rough hands and dirty words, ended with him having money or pills thrown at him, or a roof over his head, or, that one time, a free ticket out of jail, or sometimes it was done with gritted teeth and numbers ticking up in his head until it was done, or it was full of laughter (on the other person’s end) and confusion (on his) and he didn’t know it happened until he woke up hours later. It was never something intimate, or gentle, or caring and, quite frankly, he couldn’t quite imagine it being anything else. 

Klaus thought he knew everything about people, and relationships, and sex. Then he was in Vietnam; then there was Dave.

Klaus wondered what Dave wanted from him, at the start, because everyone always wanted something from him. Perhaps just some favour in the future, or perhaps he wanted to ‘borrow’ some of his pills; whatever, Dave needed to want something from him, and that’s why he was so kind when he introduced himself to him; why he helped him out, why he did everything he did. 

It was almost nice, when Klaus began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, perhaps all Dave wanted was friendship. Then Dave more or less made it obvious that he was interested in him, and it became obvious what he wanted, and - well, it wasn’t as if Dave wasn’t incredibly attractive, even if Klaus might stupidly miss having a real friend. 

Honestly, he thought Dave was rather stupid, for a while. Dave let him know he was interested, so Klaus let him know he was, too, without quite saying the words out loud, and they could do anything, but Dave just - didn’t.

They didn’t run off and fuck in some bush on patrol, Dave didn’t make him suck his dick behind a tree, he didn’t do so much as kiss him. No, Dave just… spoke to him. Spent his free time with him. Got to know as much as he could about him, as much as Klaus would let him know, and told him all about himself, and they had inside jokes and laughed and they were - friends? Real friends, even if the concept was new and unfamiliar to Klaus. He’s sure Ben would be proud of him, even if he was constantly waiting for Dave to just get fed up with it. 

It hurt a little, really. The longer Dave dragged it out, and was so genuine and kind to him, and Klaus craved true friendship from him and the idea of just fucking him a couple of times if he was lucky and moving on was painful. It was cruel. Klaus was too afraid to push it, though, trying to enjoy the first pleasant friendship he had ever had for as long as he could.

Then Dave kisses him. The world is fuzzy and warm with alcohol and the air smells vaguely like weed, or perhaps that is just Klaus, and Dave’s hand is heavy on his cheek and his lips taste like beer and it is soft and slow and nothing Klaus has ever done before. It makes his stomach turn in a way that nothing else could, and for a moment Klaus fumbles to match rather than being too eager or rushed or heavy. 

They kiss, and then they kiss again, and again, and again, and Klaus’ head swims dizzily with it, and something in him melts and crumbles and he is uncertain and afraid and hurt, and he wants to be back in his own territory, wants to know what Dave is doing and where this is going, but a part of him doesn’t want it to go in Klaus’ direction; doesn’t want to reduce this to a meaningless, uncaring exchange that they forget ever happened, even if it terrifies him.

They sit together, often. Alone, where no one else is around. The sky is dark and Dave’s eyes sparkle with stars trapped inside them.

“I like you, Klaus,” he says, and Klaus stares at the sky and wonders what there is to like. Dave places his hand over Klaus’ and repeats, “I like you. A lot.”

Klaus swallows, suddenly nervous, and peers at him. He doesn’t quite know how to respond to that. He nods. “Yeah, well.. I like you too,” he returns, a little awkwardly. He does like Dave. He likes how Dave makes him laugh, and how Dave talks to him, and how he kisses him. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he loves Dave, because that word isn’t - right, and it’s not something Klaus should use - but he does like Dave. A lot. Especially now, when Dave leans forwards and kisses him again, soft and slow and gentle. 

It’s infuriating and terrifying, a little bit, to kiss Dave, because he never knows which kiss is going to be the last; never knows which kiss is going to tide into something more, and he is torn between wanting to get it over and done with and never wanting this to end. He likes this new gentleness in his life, but the unfamiliarity of it scares him, and he wants to go back to what he knows. This - it makes him feel vulnerable and helpless, and he doesn’t like that feeling.

Dave kisses his cheek and withdraws, sighing contently, and he pulls a joint out and lights it up, taking a drag before offering it to Klaus. Klaus exhales in relief. It’ll come to an end, eventually, but not right now.

It is quite reminiscent of that first kiss, really. There is music and dancing and lights that bathe Dave’s skin, and they drink and laugh with the others, then go outside, stumble away from the place until they’re alone, and they spark up a joint to share and the laughs and energy gentle simmer down, and it’s just them all of a sudden, in the humid heat of Vietnam, the sky melting into the sun, and smoke tumbles from Dave’s lips and Klaus can’t stop staring. No one is around, and so he reaches out to trail his clumsy fingertips along his jaw, his cheek, and Dave turns to stare at him as he runs his thumb along his lower lip. 

His eyes are dim and sparkling, cheeks flushed, and he seems entranced by Klaus’ touch and his presence in general, and the kiss is like all the others and just as perfect as it always is, as the next one, and the next one, and the next one. One of Dave’s arms wind around his waist to hold him flush against him and the other hand runs through the hair at the back of his head. Klaus’ nimble fingers snatch the joint from his hand before it can either burn his shirt or Dave’s fingers, and when Dave’s lips move down to his neck, he holds the joint between his lips and closes his eyes and melts.

They stumble a little, balance thrown off, and then they fall when Klaus trips over a rock and they tumble to the ground together, laughing, and his chest swells with happiness. Dave lifts his head from Klaus’ neck, moves his hands to cup his cheek, and his laughs slowly quieten down although his grin doesn’t fade at all, and nor does Klaus’. Though it does falter when Dave strokes his cheeks and declares, “beautiful. You’re so beautiful, Klaus.”

His cheeks heat up even more than having Dave between his legs and laying on top of him does, and even further when Dave sighs, as if content to simply just stare at Klaus for forever, as if he actually is beautiful. Suddenly a little afraid again, Klaus throws aside the remainder of their joint and tangles his fingers in his hair to pull his lips back to his own. 

It’s deeper, this time; heavier. His tongue slides along Dave’s and his heart pounds beneath his ribs so hard he’s sure Dave must feel it, because Dave is pressed down against his chest, hot and heavy, smelling like liquor and weed and smoke, and god, everything about Dave terrifies and excites him so, so much. He knows that going further than kissing and jerking one another off is dangerous, because then he has nothing else to keep Dave interested in him, but he actually wants this with Dave, and maybe they can still be friends afterwards, even if the touches and kisses are useless now.

Plus, with Dave between his legs and pressed against him, he can feel his obvious and growing interest. His back arches to press himself against him and he moans wantonly into his mouth. Dave pulls back to kiss at his neck and Klaus stretches it back for him, head thumping onto the floor. 

“Dave,” he pants. “Dave, Dave, are we - do you want?”

“Yes,” says Dave, kissing his neck again before pausing and lifting his head. “Do you, Klaus?”

He nods all too eagerly, and they kiss again briefly before Dave, reluctantly, pulls back and staggers onto his feet, and holds out a hand to help Klaus up. Both of them have to take a moment to readjust themselves in their pants before they share a heavy look and hurry back to the hotel they are staying in, dodging everyone else on the way and taking the furthest room, locking the door behind them. It’s early enough where everyone else is still out dancing or smoking, a little before any other soldiers might be trying to coax one of the girls from here into bed as well, and so they are completely alone here.

Eager to make up for the time in which they had to part, Klaus launches himself forwards, wraps his arms around his neck and kisses him. They stagger and sway and stumble all the way to the nearest bed, and Klaus turns them around just before they fall onto it so that he can straddle him.

Idly, he wonders what Dave is into. Klaus has tried just about everything and he doubts Dave could do anything surprising or unpleasant to him, although they’ve never discussed kinks and he has no idea what Dave wants from this night. A small part of him foolishly hopes that maybe it’s just - not too much. He can deal with choking, and if Dave wants to get handy with a belt around his wrists. He wouldn’t mind seeing Dave’s muscles flex if he held him down, either. And maybe it would be hot if Dave, who was usually so sweet and gentle, could lower his voice and call him a slut, but he thinks that it might - hurt, a little, because he is so sweet and he doesn’t want him to think of him like that. He hopes, feeling small, that Dave doesn’t hit him, either. 

He’ll let him if he wants to, of course. But he still hopes he doesn’t. 

For now, though, he focuses on trailing his lips down his neck and pressing his hips into Dave’s. He feels his pulse thrum beneath his lips, drinks up all the little sounds he makes as Klaus works him up. This - Klaus knows this. He knows how to make people feel good, and he learns quickly how best to get beautiful sounds out of Dave without even having to touch him just yet.

Dave’s hands settle on his waist and toy with his shirt, so Klaus pulls it off over his head and drops it aside, and shudders when his hands run along his naked stomach and up his chest. His own fingers start unbuttoning Dave’s shirt, then slides it off his shoulders, and he takes a moment to stare at him. He has seen Dave shirtless plenty of times before, and it still leaves him a little breathless, looking at his sun-kissed skin and his abs and the small scar by the left side of his hip from where his cat scratched the shit out of him when he was seventeen. 

He’s all too eager to pepper his torso in kisses. Fingers run through his hair, following him down when he begins to sink off his lap to sit on his knees on the floor instead, and his hands come up to unbutton his pants. Dave’s hips lift and he pulls the clothing off him, throwing it aside. 

He wants to take his time with this; doesn’t want it to be over so quickly. He kisses along his thighs, teasing him and grinning at the sharp intakes of his breath, each one making him feel dizzy. He can’t help but look up, grinning wider when he sees the look on Dave’s face. “Okay up there?” He asks, and Dave snorts.

“Fuck, Klaus,” he breathes. “God, you’re fucking perfect.”

That - Klaus falters slightly like he always does whenever Dave compliments him so sincerely. To cover it up, he leans upwards to kiss him, and as he does so he reaches into his underwear and pulls him out of it. Dave’s breath hitches, gasping softly into his mouth, and Klaus can’t help a small, breathless laugh. In return, Dave nudges him with his nose, but watches him intently. 

He feels more confident like this, because he knows he’s good at this, knows he can do this, but the way Dave looks at him never fails to make him feel - seen, in a deeper, more intimate way than he ever has been before. 

He strokes Dave until he’s fully hard, using his spit to ease the friction a little while mouthing along his chest, and then Dave is pulling his hand away, kissing him fiercely, and tugging at his pants that are still securely on.

“So eager,” Klaus hums with a smile, but he stands up and kicks his pants aside and can’t help but feel some relief. Even without being touched, he’s almost fully hard and his pants were almost painfully tight in this situation. His underwear joins the pile on the floor and he can’t help but take a moment to close his fist around his cock, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he strokes himself a few times, just enough to relieve some of the burning arousal in him. He stops, though, when he hears Dave curse. Cracking his eyes open, he sees Dave looking him up and down, memorising every inch of him.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Klaus,” he breathes, eyes jumping up to meet Klaus’. He stands up, closing the distance between them and Klaus holds his breath in anticipation, and he - reaches a hand up to stroke his cheek, his touch oh so gentle. His head tips into the touch, nuzzling into his hand, and a shiver runs down his spine as Dave utters, “god, so gorgeous.”

“Whatever you say,” Klaus hums jokingly, but apparently it was the wrong thing to say because he opens his eyes to see Dave blinking at him. His other hand comes up to his other cheek. 

“Klaus, you are,” he insists. “You are so fucking gorgeous.” His eyes flick up and down him again and Klaus resists the urge to squirm. People have called him pretty before, and hot, but never gorgeous - never beautiful. And they’ve certainly never looked as if they meant it. 

The rush and urgency Klaus had built up fades a little with how gentle Dave kisses him and Klaus wants to yell, or cry, or something - wants to bring it back into his terf of hot and heavy and rushed, but he can’t will himself to. Not when Dave’s hands rest on his hips and his thumbs rub his skin, not when he holds him in a way that could be called an embrace. Klaus feels all too fragile like this, too vulnerable and delicate, and he tells himself it is the breeze from the window that makes him tremble slightly and not the way Dave takes his time kissing him.

God, does Dave take his time as if the world is on pause for the two of them. He kisses him, runs his hands up his waist, down his back, through his hair, as if committing his body to memory through touch, and it’s weird, to be savoured rather than devoured. 

He urges Klaus back towards the bed, gently pushing him down onto it and falling him down, sliding between his legs and stretching out over him. His head tucks into the crook of his neck and teases his skin with his teeth until Klaus’ chest is heaving against his, and then he goes lower and lower and god if the sight of Dave between his legs doesn’t make him feel dizzy. 

Dave smirks up at him, close enough that his breath is hot and teasing on his cock, and Klaus curls his fingers in his hair and groans. “I fucking hate how patient you are,” he complains, because he knows Dave is endlessly patient with him, and he’s always loved that when he fucks things up and Dave is always willing to forgive him, but now he’s seeing the downside of Dave’s kindness and patience. That smug smirk stays in place until the second he finally leans forward to take his cock into his mouth, and Klaus hisses and stops himself from jerking his hips up already.

Dave is good with his mouth. Dave is fucking incredible with his mouth, actually, and his tongue, mixed with his fucking ability to draw everything out until Klaus wonders if he’s just going to blow him until he comes. He’s not one to be forceful when on the receiving end, but Dave takes him whole into his mouth until his nose is against his stomach, gagging a little until he manages to relax, and it’s almost impressive - really fucking impressive, actually, and incredibly hot, and Klaus’ toes curl in the mattress and his fingers twist Dave’s hair and the fucker looks up at him with wide eyes and long eyelashes and hollow cheeks. His tongue keeps work, pressed up against his cock and swirling around it, taunting and teasing.

“Oh my god,” he groans breathlessly, dropping his head back onto the pillow, and twitching when Dave’s tongue presses against the underside of his cock. “Dave - Dave, if you keep going we’re not gonna make it much further,” he pants. 

Dave slowly pulls himself back off his cock, all hot and wet and staring up at him. He lets his tongue flick out over his head, catch the trail of spit that was connected from his bottom lip to his dick, and he smirks again. “We’re hardly getting started,” he teases, and Klaus closes his eyes and breathes, grappling his arousal back under control. He feels the mattress shift as Dave crawls back up his body to kiss him, and Klaus throws himself into it. As he does so, he hears the bedside drawer rattle, and Dave sits up a little. 

“Whose’s that’s?” He asks, eying the little bottle of lube he pulled out of the drawer, as if it matters at all.

“Think this is Jamie’s bed,” answers Dave, quirking an eyebrow, and Klaus frowns.

“Jamie’s? Ugh, gross.”

Dave snickers a little, pops the cap off, and then looks back at him. He’s flushed down to his heaving chest, sitting back as he messes with the bottle, cock painfully erect between his legs, but Klaus doesn’t have the chance to return the blow job Dave gave him. Dave shuffles a little closer, and Klaus can’t see it but he does hear the bottle squeeze, and he holds Dave’s steady gaze and cants his hips up a little more. Dave ducks down, catches his lips in another kiss that Klaus didn’t know he needed.

“Do you - still want to?” He asks, forehead against his. 

“God, yes,” answers Klaus, nearly trembling in anticipation, and then he pauses. “Wait, wait-” He reaches behind himself, pulls the pillow around to position it under his hips to tilt them up a little more, and then he grins at Dave, curls a hand around his neck and then kisses him. 

Although he expects it, he can’t help but jump a little when a cool finger touches him and Dave works it in slowly and carefully, as if he’s so aware of potentially hurting him, and Klaus tries to ignore the way he can’t remember the last time someone treated him like that, if they ever did. The way he startled makes Dave hesitate above him and he hurries to reassure him with a breathy moan against his lips, not that he really has to fake it. 

It’s odd, how worried about him Dave is. Making sure he wants to keep going even if he’d just been writhing and moaning eagerly on the bed beneath him for the past however-long and showed no signs of wanting to stop, hyper-aware of any tension or hesitation or reluctance Klaus shows, wanting to take things slow and careful and give Klaus incredible head without expecting it in return. It’s odd, and unfamiliar, and terrifying, and addicting. 

Klaus can get off in just about any situation, but it still surprises him how this, possibly the most vanilla sex he’s had in over a decade, is making him painfully turned on, when he is used to things very different. He’d been half convinced he’d conditioned himself to only being able to get off if it hurt, at least a little bit, or perhaps he had just gotten used to that, because Dave mouths at one of his nipples and is seemingly content to take his time with one finger and Klaus is panting as if he’s run a marathon. 

He notices when Dave sits up a little, air suddenly feeling cool on his flushed and damp skin, and another finger slowly joins the first, working deeper inside him and keeping an easy rhythm that has Klaus pushing his hips back in time with it. When he opens his eyes, Dave is simply staring down at him, and Klaus’ cheeks flush darker and he throws an arm over his face, feeling an odd mix of embarrassed and too exposed.

Dave’s other hand takes his, coaxing it away from his face, and he still doesn’t say anything. Grappling for his confidence, Klaus arches his back a little and says, “c’mon, Dave, just fuck me already - please, Dave, I need you, please, please-”

It’s a little frustrating, not being able to reach him like this, when his fingers tingle with the need to touch him, and no one’s taken this long to focus on Klaus’ own pleasure and he feels way to vulnerable like this, suddenly insecure that Dave isn’t getting off, being neglected and untouched, even if he still looks a little dazed and breathless. 

Then Dave curls his fingers and Klaus’ whole body jerks, lips falling open in a moan, and he keeps brushing that same spot until Klaus feels drunk, stuttering hips trying to move in time, hands grasping at the mattress and a litany of moans and pleas falling off his tongue. Spurred on by it, Dave thrusts his fingers quicker, aiming to hit that spot every time, and Klaus' cock aches against his stomach, flushed red and neglected.

“Dave, Dave, Dave, please - god, please, Dave, fuck me, please-”

He cuts off with a whine as Dave pulls his fingers back out, but he hears the promising sound of a wrapper tearing and a cap popping again. When he lifts his head, he sees Dave between his legs, fisting his own cock, and he moans at the sight. It takes him a moment to find the control to turn around, but he props himself up on his hands and knees, neck craning so he can watch Dave stroking himself and rolling a condom onto himself. He’s half tempted to turn around and do it himself, or just touch him in any way he can, but finally Dave opens his brilliant blue eyes again, catches his, and smiles so warmly at him as if they’re doing something more than fucking, and it almost feels like they are. 

His other hand comes up, running along the curve of his ass, coming to squeeze his hip, finally lining himself up before pushing himself in slowly. Klaus lets his eyes flutter shut, head hanging from his shoulders, lets Dave move slowly until he’s able to fully sheath himself inside him, and for a moment he just stays like that. Despite the way Klaus moans, he realises that he only begins to actually move when he sees Klaus’ tense shoulders relax when he adjusts to the feeling.

“This - this okay?” He asks, voice slightly strained, and Klaus nods fervently. 

“Yes, god, yes, Dave, it’s fucking okay,” he moans, pushing his hips back. “It’s _great_.”

He hears a gentle half-laugh from behind him, and Dave leans down to pepper his shoulders with kisses, hips starting a steady pace that begins to pick up, pulling nearly all of the way out only to thrust right back in.

He hears the way Dave pants for breath above him, feels his hands grip his narrow hips, slides up to his waist and then back again, and when he moans the sound is deep and low and incredible and goes straight to Klaus’ cock. He drops from his hands to his elbows, arching his back in a way that makes Dave brush that spot from earlier, and he has to remind himself that although they should be alone for still a while yet, he still needs to be careful not to be too loud, just in case, and just ends up biting his own fist every now and then.

Dave does not, in fact, do anything odd, or hard, or particularly kinky to him. He isn’t rough, doesn’t go harder unless Klaus manages to ask him between moans, and he doesn’t push his face into the mattress, or tell him to shut up; doesn’t pin or tie his wrists together, doesn’t pin and press him down until he can’t move. He does, however, kiss and suck along his neck and back where he can, enough so that Klaus knows there are going to be marks there and he’s going to have to wear a shirt for a while until they fade, and he does, actually, reach one hand around him to curl around his cock so that Klaus doesn’t have to do it himself, and he struggles to resist the urge to cling onto his hand. 

One hand runs down his back, up to his shoulder, and so quiet and breathless he almost doesn’t catch it, Dave murmurs, “beautiful, just beautiful.” 

“Dave,” he moans, pressing his cheek against the mattress, and Dave moans his name sinfully in return. It sounds much better coming from his lips than anyone else’s. “Dave,” he repeats, pushing himself back to meet the next thrust. “I’m - fuck, I’m close, Dave-”

Dave’s mouth sucks a new mark on his back before trailing up to his head. “Turn around,” he says, before he pulls out, and Klaus moans at the loss, body twitching, but as soon as the words process in his head he all but flips himself over onto his back and tilts his hips back up so that Dave can sink back in. They fumble for a moment to adjust to the position, and then Klaus wraps his legs around his hips, drawing him closer, and Dave holds himself up over Klaus before Klaus pulls him down, flush against his chest, so he can run his hands all over him and feel him everywhere, his steady weight pressing him slightly into the mattress. 

Again, Dave slips a hand between them to find Klaus’ cock, curling his fingers around it, slick with precome and sensitive to his touch. His nails dig into Dave’s shoulders and he tucks his face against him, closes his eyes, and loses himself in the sound of Dave’s moans, in the feeling of him everywhere, the gentle hand in his hair and his chest against his. 

“Dave, fuck,” he moans again, voice pitched higher, and Dave pulls back just enough to be able to watch Klaus; rests one hand on his cheek, so gentle it makes his chest ache, and Klaus forces his eyes open and holds his gaze, intoxicated with all his attention, as the building pressure in his body keeps bubbling up beneath his skin, urged on by Dave’s hips thrusting back and forth and his hand keeping a fast rhythm, until he takes Klaus apart and he comes over his hand and his own stomach and chest with a cry, his toes curling and legs shaking.

Dave kisses his cheek and his neck, again and again and again, and Klaus holds him tight enough that it’s almost embarrassing, because it’s just sex, something he’s done a thousand times before, and probably more than that, but it feels like so much more this time. Dave comes moaning his name in a way that makes Klaus shudder, his face buried in Klaus’ neck.

They stay like that, panting for breath and trembling against one another, until Klaus eases his hold a little and Dave lifts his head and pulls himself out. 

They’re quiet for a moment, and then Dave pulls the condom off and throws it at the nearest trash can. It lands inside.

“Good throw,” croaks Klaus, and Dave grins at him. Klaus can’t help but grin in return, and then they burst out laughing and Dave slumps on the bed beside him, chest bouncing. Klaus stares up at the ceiling, laughing for longer than he probably should until he exhales loudly and Dave’s own laughter dies down a little. He looks around, but besides their own clothes there’s nothing within immediate reach to clean himself up with, and he can’t bring himself to get up yet, so he decides to stubbornly ignore the mess on his stomach and chest. 

He’s not one to try and ruin the afterglow, but his mind keeps running circles. He’s not sure why it surprises him so much, but Dave came without - doing anything, really. Without even putting a hand on his neck, without manhandling him, without trying to leave bruises, without spitting at him - he didn’t even call him a dirty name. It’s almost mind boggling. He can’t remember the last time he had sex where the other person didn’t do that to him.

“Was that… okay?” Dave asks sheepishly, running his fingertips along Klaus’ side to make him shiver. He rolls his head to the side to face him and his response dies on his tongue, for some reason. 

It was more than okay, at least for him. And here Dave is, checking up on him, again, and touching him gently and idly, and smiling, and staring at him, and it’s - nearly too much. 

“Klaus?”

His hand comes up to his face, and Klaus thinks he’s going to miss this. He wanted it, of course, but sex was the only thing he could offer Dave and now he’s had it, he doesn’t have to stay. Shuddering, Klaus closes his eyes and nods. 

“Yeah,” he whispers. “It was great, Dave. Did you…?”

Dave snorts a little. “Hell yeah,” he says. “I loved it.”

Klaus preens slightly, but the encroaching fear that this is over or that he did something wrong, because Dave didn’t fuck him like anyone else has, threatens to suffocate him, and he can’t stop himself when he says, “but you didn’t even hurt me.”

Dave’s hand freezes and Klaus tenses in response, opening his eyes and immediately regretting what he just said. 

They’ve spoken a lot. Klaus hasn’t told him… everything about himself, but he’s slipped up, said things he thought was normal only for Dave to stare at him in horror, so Dave can probably guess the majority of his sex life, and it makes him frown now.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Klaus,” he says, voice quiet and soft.

“Oh,” is all he can say, and he averts his gaze. 

Dave shuffles closer, both hands coming to cup his face, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Klaus, I don’t want to hurt you. I wanted you to enjoy that, too-”

“I did!” Klaus hurries to reassure him, gripping his wrist. “I did, Dave, you were so good, I just - sorry,” he cuts himself off and tries to sit up. “We can - I can go, now, if you want-”

Dave moves to grab his wrist, gently holding him in place. “I’d prefer if you stayed,” he says.

“Oh,” Klaus repeats, lips pressing together, and then he sinks back onto the bed, knowing a conversation is about to kick off. Nonetheless, he settles down next to Dave, listens to the hum of bugs outside, a gentle breeze drifting in through the window, easy on his hot skin.

Dave keeps idly running his fingers along his arm, gently, when Klaus doesn't protest, and it seems as if he’s trying to work himself up to saying something. It takes him several minutes.

“Klaus,” he says, eyes wide when he looks at him. “I - I love you, Klaus.”

The words make Klaus freeze, and he stares back at Dave with just as much muted panic. Dave searches for his hand. “Klaus, I don’t - I don’t want to hurt you, I’m not going to get off on hurting you, I just - fuck, Klaus, I care about you. I care about you, Klaus. I’m fucking lucky to be here right now-” He runs his knuckles over Klaus’ cheek, shoulders slumping. “You’re so - good, Klaus. Perfect. And I - I love you. I do.”

Klaus -

Klaus hasn’t heard those words in - at all, he thinks. He hasn’t heard those words at all, never told to him and never meant so sincerely, but Dave is trembling with how intense he is staring at him, in fear of Klaus’ response, and it hits him, suddenly-

He really does. He’s not lying, not joking; those words are real and sincere. Dave means them - he fucking means them. 

“Oh,” he says, again, and then, “ _oh_.”

This is - that was the thing he was feeling? The butterflies in his stomach, the weakness in his knees, the trance he fell in whenever he watched Dave, the soul-gripping fear when they were split up while seeing action, that aching fire in his chest, the fear that Dave would be just like everyone else-

“You don’t have to say it back,” he says, voice always so gentle, and Klaus reaches up to cover the hand on his cheek. “But I - I do, Klaus. I don’t want this to just be a - some fuck and run, thing. If you want more.”

Klaus’ tongue feels incredibly dry in his mouth, and he stares dumbly at Dave for a while longer, before he hurries to reply. “I do,” he states. “I do, I - fuck, I do, Dave.” 

He wants Dave and his gentle touches and warm smiles and soft kisses, and wants the way Dave asks a hundred times if he’s okay, how he doesn’t push and pressure him for more, and the realisation that someone like that even exists, and exists for Klaus - it steals all the air from his lungs.

Dave smiles brightly, as if Klaus is better than he really is, and he opens one arm slightly. Klaus takes the invitation to hug him. Dave wraps an arm around him and holds him tight, and Klaus returns it tighter than he initially means to. Dave presses a kiss to his cheek, strokes the other one, and for a long while they simply lay there, Klaus’ mind strangely numb to all of the doubts and fears he had a minute ago. 

Then Dave says, “you know, I love watching you dance.”

Humming, Klaus looks up at him. “Yeah?”

Dave nods, a grin tugging his lips. “Yeah.”

He’s still reeling, honestly, but he pushes everything aside to grin. “Night’s still young, Dave.”

Dave mirrors his grin and they sit up. “Is that an invitation, Hargreeves?”

“You know it. But… can we - stay like this? Just for five minutes?”

Dave’s smile doesn’t waver. He runs his hand through Klaus’ hair, pushing it back from his face. “Of course.” He sinks back down in the bed, and Klaus melts into his side, head on his chest. Dave runs his hand through his hair continuously, easing the tension from his muscles. From this spot, Klaus can see the open window, and beyond that, he can see the orange sky as the sun sinks lower and lower and sets the sky on fire. 

A couple minutes pass and Dave stretches, searching the bedside drawer for something, and he lets out a victorious sound. He hears a lighter flick, and Dave offers out a joint.

“Jamie’ll kill us if he finds out we stole his stash,” Klaus says, and Dave grins.

“Better not tell, then.”

“Secret’s safe with me.” Dave winks at him, and Klaus holds it between his lips with a twinkle in his eyes. Dave’s hand is heavy on his shoulder, holding him close, and he can hear the distant sound of music from downstairs.

Dave is content to lay there, sharing the stolen joint between them, stroking his hair, and Klaus feels a sudden, nearly overwhelming sense of contentedness that he has never felt before.

“Dave?”

“Mhmm?”

Klaus presses his lips together. Watches the faint glow of the joint in his fingers, then watches the rise and fall of Dave’s chest. “I - uh… I love you, too.”

The words are quiet, hesitant, as if saying them will make Dave laugh and reveal all of this was a joke. But he doesn’t. He just lights up, grinning, and holds him a little tighter. 

Yes, Klaus thinks he does, even if the feeling is new and unfamiliar and terrifying. It’s not so scary, though, when Dave helps clean him up before they get changed, and when every time he catches his gaze he visibly lights up and smiles at him, or when they sneak away from everyone to steal a moment alone in the night, when Dave kisses him again, gently and so soft, and then leans back to point up at the stars, even if he looks at Klaus as if he holds the whole universe in his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I,,, love them. That's all.  
> Anywho this is my first smut piece so,,, thoughts and feedbacks are appreciated, thank you <3


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